What the Night Nurse Saw
by Kailin
Summary: A stranger eases Samantha Stewart's journey through the crossroads. It's what I'd like to think took place during "Bad Blood".


_A/N: This takes place as Sam is recovering from Anthrax. Sometimes an objective third party can be a definite help. So can a great beta like Persiflage._

_**What the Night Nurse Saw**_

Connie Wilton liked the night shift.

Working through the night was not exactly conducive to a social life, but that was fine with her. She was happy to leave the day shifts for the younger nurses, the ones who either had boyfriends or were hunting for them. With Ted away in the Royal Navy, there was really no point in going home at night to a dark house and a cold, empty bed.

Besides, she enjoyed the quiet. Things were different in a hospital ward at night. No doctors strutting about like demigods. There were a couple of those: older men who were past the possibility of joining up. Older men who, if you were finally seated at the desk and working on the patient charts, expected you to rise to your feet when they entered the ward. Further, expected you to fetch a cup of tea to sip as they surveyed their precious little kingdom. All of them weren't like that, thank goodness; times were changing. And changing for the better, Connie thought.

At night, the patients were quiet as well. Well, quiet_er._ The very ill often moaned and tossed in their sleep, trying to find rest and not succeeding. They were the reason Connie had gone to nursing school. She wanted to bring comfort to them, much as she had ten years earlier when her grandmother was so ill. And during the night shift, without the usual daytime duties, she was free to do just that.

A creak of springs, the rustling of sheets down the ward drew Connie's attention just now, along with a cough that sounded in need of a cool drink of water. She rose from her chair at the ward desk and reached for her torch.

Ah, she thought as she neared the bed. The young woman who had been so ill with something called Anthrax. She seemed to be on the mend, unlike that other sad case. Thank God for the new wonder drugs called antibiotics!

"May I get you some water, Miss Stewart?" Connie asked softly.

"Yes, thank you."

The young woman tried to sit up in bed, but Connie placed a gentle restraining hand on her shoulder.

"No need. That's what straws are for." She poured a glass of water, placed a straw in it, and held it lower for the patient to drink. "Better?"

Still swallowing, Sam nodded. "Yes. Much better."

"Your young man finally went back to his base?"

Another nod, this one accompanied by a grimace and a sigh.

"Yes."

"Was that your father here as well?"

"My _father? _No!" Sam blurted, looking horrified.

"Sorry," Connie said hastily. "I just assumed…"

"No. My boss. Just…my boss." Wearily, Sam rubbed the heel of one hand against her forehead as if to push away a headache that wouldn't leave.

"Oh. Well, he is certainly devoted."

"He is?"

The light from Connie's torch seemed to catch a glimmer of hope in Samantha Stewart's eyes.

"Oh, yes. He's been here quite often, although I suspect you weren't aware of it sometimes when you were so ill."

"Really? How often?"

"Well…" Connie searched her memory. "I didn't count the times, but he was certainly here every night that I worked. He would sit here by your bed for quite a while. Several times I saw him touch your hair or your cheek – you were so restless, you know, so very uncomfortable. That's why I assumed that he was your father, I suppose."

"Really?" A grin spread across Sam's face. "He did that? He touched me like that?"

"Yes."

"Nurse?"

"Yes?" Miss Stewart's smile, Connie noted, had slid off her face and was rapidly replaced by a frown.

"Have you ever had to refuse a man?"

"Refuse? You mean as in unwanted attention? We can certainly prevent that gentleman from visiting any more, if you like. You don't have to put up with that."

"No!" Sam sat straight up in bed. "Not him, not that! I only meant – have you ever had anyone propose, and you needed to refuse him?"

Light dawned. "You mean the young American soldier."

"Joe. Yes."

"He's very dashing,"

"Yes. Definitely. But he wants me to go back to California with him, and I – I can't do that."

"Because of the other gentleman," Connie guessed.

"Mr. Foyle." Sam supplied the name.

"And you want to know how to tell Joe that you can't marry him."

"Yes."

Connie's curiosity got the better of her. "Are you so certain of your Mr. Foyle?"

"I wasn't. But what you just told me about him – that is – if it means what I think it might… Oh, damn it all!" The heel of her hand returned to her forehead.

"Love isn't easy, is it?" Connie sympathized.

Sam snorted in response. "When I was small, I used to think that I would meet a man and we would both instantly _know_. That it would be so apparent that we were meant to be together. That I wouldn't be wracking my brain trying to sort it all out."

"Well, sometimes it _can_ be apparent, as you say." Connie didn't want to admit that it had pretty much been that way with Ted. It certainly wouldn't make poor Miss Stewart rest any easier tonight. "But that may not be the usual case."

"How do I tell him?" Sam asked softly.

"Who? Joe, or your Mr. Foyle?"

Another snort. "Both."

"Oh, dear. That's a rather tall order, I'm afraid. They didn't cover this in nurse's training."

"Sorry. You need to get back to work, I'm sure. I'm keeping you from it with my silly little problems."

"No, not at all," Connie protested. "It's just that there are no easy answers."

"I'm beginning to think that nothing in life is easy." Sam sank back onto the pillows.

"No. Not easy." Connie started as a bell rang from a bed farther down the ward. "I'm sorry. You'll have to excuse me."

"Of course."

"I could stop by a bit later. We could talk some more."

"Good."

Connie made sure the covers were well tucked back around Miss Stewart, then stepped away from the bedside. The patient who had rung the bell was an older woman who was requesting a bedpan – a process, it turned out, that took a while because of the patient's weight and difficulty maneuvering with the cast that encased her broken leg. By the time Connie returned to Samantha Stewart, she could see that the young woman was resting quietly.

And smiling.


End file.
